The Most Memorable Dress
by Violets and Lilies
Summary: Dancing with the Prince was amazing, but it's not the only thing that Ella remembers when she thinks about that dress. A backstory for the beautiful ball gown that Ella wears. One-shot.
Ella carefully worked the rusty lock open and gently lifted the lid of a large chest in the attic, feeling the thrill of magical memories as she pulled her mother's favorite pink chiffon dress from underneath the other old clothes and blankets.

As she brushed away the dust and lint, Ella couldn't help but smile; to have the opportunity to wear her mother's dress tonight made her feel as if her life had come full circle. Ever since the Prince's invitation had arrived, she'd felt as if this one night would be worth all the years of drudgery that had been forced on her by her cruel stepmother and mocking stepsisters.

Surveying the dress with the eyes of a practiced seamstress, she noted, with some bemusement, that it was somewhat old-fashioned. Then again, she laughed to herself, it'd been locked in a trunk for nearly ten years!

Shaking out the wrinkles without wasting any angst on her stepsisters for being greedy with the only iron in the house, Ella took careful note of the few small holes and other loose or frayed threads. Then, settling onto the middle of her lumpy attic mattress, she began working quickly and expertly to make the dress presentable for a royal ball.

As she worked, her small animal friends, the mice and birds, gathered around to watch as if they were curious about her joyous mood despite the fact that, at any moment, she may be forced to leave her personal chore to assist in Lady Tremaine's atrocious-looking daughters preparations for the ball.

At first, Ella sang to them as she sewed, her sweet airy voice rising to the high attic rafters and out the tiny window, but after a while her voice quieted as long-suppressed memories bubbled to the forefront of her conscious.

She remembered when her father had brought the dress home for his lovely wife's birthday. Ella herself was barely four years old then and she'd hidden at the top of the spiral staircase, watching her parents happy loving banter and teasing with thrilled innocence, Thinking back now, the moment still managed to fill Ella with its magic even though she'd seen enough heartache and unfairness in her life to pervert and sour such a beautiful scene.

Ella smiled with gladness and broke into song again; shaking away the happy memory, she turned her mind to the present. How wonderful it would be to honor her dead parents by wearing her mother's special dress to the Prince's ball tonight.

But, again, her songs only lasted so long before her memories overtook her again. This one was of a darker time, though it still held beautiful magic, like a vivid sunset at the close of a very special day. The darkening sky briefly filled Ella with sadness before she refocused her thoughts on its beauty.

In this memory, Ella was a lonesome and heartbroken ten year old, having watched for several months as her mother's once vibrant health had declined dramatically after a sudden illness had refused to let her go.

Ella's world was much changed after her mother had taken sick and now the entire household's schedule revolved around the bedridden woman's care. No longer did she enjoy lazy strolls in the sunshine with her parents. No longer did the cooks laugh and tease her when she tried to steal a warm freshly baked cookie or slice of bread from the kitchen. No longer did anyone carefully undo her knotted stitches when she muddled an attempt to sew fashionable clothes for her dolls. No longer did anyone help her practice fixing her long silky blonde curls into the ornate styles that took her childish fancy.

Sometimes she felt invisible to the rest of the humans in the house, but, she recalled, during those times, her animal friends had remained faithful.

Now, tears of gratitude misted Ella's cheeks as she surveyed these same faithful friends who had remained with her throughout all her troubles. Reaching out, she gently stroked their velvety heads with her thumb and sang them a quiet song before her mind drifted back to the past and the memory continued.

She remembered that, for her birthday that year, her mother had demanded only one thing: that her husband help her put on her favorite dress and take her dancing.

He, of course, Ella remembered, had protested vehemently and, as she'd watched, peeking nervously around the doorway of their bedroom, they'd almost gotten into a real fight about it.

Even at that age, she couldn't remember a time when her parents had disagreed so passionately and, even now, it made her involuntarily shudder.

Eventually though, she remembered, her mother's grave condition and passionate argument had exhausted her father's determination and he'd relented; young Ella had scooted away when he began to lovingly help his wife dress in the beautiful pink chiffon dress.

Not long afterward, she'd heard his deep bass voice breaking into a gently song and she couldn't help but to reappear, this time peeking around her own bedroom door; it'd been ages since she'd heard him singing!

She watched, barely able to contain a happy giggle, as he'd waltzed, his frail wife secure in his strong arms, down the hallway and spiral staircase and into and around their home's large foyer. Ella had dashed, in her slippers, to the top landing so that she could watch without disturbing their joy.

It was, she still thought, her most treasured memory of her parents.

* * *

Barely an hour later, Ella stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching her cruel stepmother and stepsisters hurrying out the door on their way to the ball. Ella could not, would not, follow; her mind was numbed by the shock and horror of what had just happened. Her mother's beautiful dress, now hanging off her shoulders and clinging loosely to her chest, had been torn and shredded by the hands of those three wicked women who now laughed loudly outside as they boarded their coach and went away.

Ella was beyond destroyed!

But the tears that prickled and stung her eyes were not merely for herself.

Yes, without a doubt, she knew that her own dream of going to the ball was torn and shredded beyond repair, just like her mother's beautiful dress. But what really cut Ella's heart was that her treasured memories also lay in a tattered heap on floor.

How could she possibly ever associate this ruined dress with her parent's joy? Looking down at herself, she knew that, whenever she looked at it, she'd only remember the cruelty of the last few minutes. Every ounce of joy that this dress had ever been associated with was taken from her.

Finally, with a torrent of tears freely flowing down her face, Ella dashed from the steps and flew out the door, running blindly, not caring where she ended up. Suddenly, her feet tangled in an exposed root and she fell, just catching herself before her face struck the brick well. There she remained, sobbing into her hands until the kind voice of an elderly woman drew her attention.

"Excuse me, why are you crying?"

* * *

Several hours later, having scooted off the road just in time to avoid getting run over or, even worse, stopped and questioned by the palace guard that had pursued them from the castle, Ella couldn't help but put her hand to her mouth and giggle madly.

It was all so unbelievably and wonderfully grand that she wouldn't have believed it if it had come from one of those nonsensical fairy tales that her mother and father had read to her when she was a child.

Looking down at herself in awe, she could still see the brilliantly shimmering blue ball gown that her fairy godmother had created from the shredded strands of her mother's pink chiffon dress. It didn't matter that the lovely dress had disappeared; it would be in Ella's mind's eye forever.

"There are so many memories locked up in this one dress," she quietly told her little friends as they gathered around her, having returned to their natural forms after conspiring so brilliantly with her Fairy Godmother to get Ella to the ball, "And I shall always remember the good." A bright smile suddenly lit up her face, and she added, "Why even the momentary bad was just part of the conspiracy to become good."

* * *

 **Author's Note** : I actually put this idea on my list of "should-write" story ideas before the 2015 version of Cinderella came out (yes, serious procrastination was involved!). As such, the original idea was set around the 1950 version. That being said, I absolutely adored the new remake and felt like I should definitely use that, but I also wasn't able completely remake the plot in my head to simply follow that version either. So, this story is, I hope, a combination of the two versions.


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